


After the Rain

by Skelligiri



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Noah's Ark, Scene: Flood in Mesopotamia 3004 BC (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skelligiri/pseuds/Skelligiri
Summary: It had been 3 days.Or so the angel assumed, as he was making his rounds through the darkness with nothing but a candle to light his way. It was hard to keep track of the daily cycle in the absence of sunlight, after all. The heavy rain had not relented even for a minute ever since the ark had been filled with two of every animal, ready to start the world anew.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	After the Rain

It had been 3 days.

Or so the angel assumed, as he was making his rounds through the darkness with nothing but a candle to light his way. It was hard to keep track of the daily cycle in the absence of sunlight, after all. The heavy rain had not relented even for a minute ever since the ark had been filled with two of every animal, ready to start the world anew.

Well. Two of almost every animal, Aziraphale was reminded, as he turned a corner towards the outermost stables of the second level of the ship. Aziraphale, who had been assigned to Earth since the beginning, at first thought there had to have been some kind of misunderstanding. But in the end, he had to accept that the ineffable plan was not for an angel to understand, much less to question. He was also faintly aware that bitterness was an emotion unbecoming of an angel, but he found it to be rather hard to suppress after recent events.

Some of the animals roused at his presence and bleary eyes turned on him as he passed stables upon stables, occasionally stopping to pet and reassure some of the particularly confused looking among them. That’s when he noticed a draft coming from the direction of the unicorn’s stable. The poor creature had been quite distraught when it had been loaded on board the ark without its mate.

When he reached the lone unicorn, Aziraphale realized that there was a gash in the wood behind it.

That explained the draft, at least. More surprising, however, was the curled up figure in the stable with the unicorn. The red hair was unmistakable.

The angel tried to ignore the warmth that spread through his corporation at the sight of his hereditary enemy. Instead, he loosened the heavy ropes that were keeping the gate closed with a quick miracle, before stepping inside.

* * *

Crawly knew what he would be telling his superiors in the off-chance that anybody questioned his actions. He was only helping some humans find their loved ones in the panicked frenzy that was Mesopotamia to lull them in some false hope, before it was all ripped away from them. Or maybe he’d tell them that God had wanted those people to die apart from each other, and that he interfered with that plan simply as an act of defiance.

It didn’t matter. He’d cross that bridge later, if he had to. He had other things to worry about in the meantime.

The water was rising fast, and he could see the angel in the distance among the chosen survivors, struggling to get the last of the animals to calm down enough to be loaded on to the boat.

‘Thank you, thank you so much,’ a woman cried over the sounds of the rain coming down in torrents when Crawly handed her the toddler she had lost in the chaos. ‘Don’t-‘, he hissed, but was promptly cut off by a wave hitting him from behind and sending him tumbling. He gasped, and for a brief moment was flooded not only by water, but memories of drowning, except it hadn’t been water and it had been hot. Not just hot, but searing, and all he could think about was how he hadn’t meant to incur Her wrath, he wanted to be let back up and go home and he kept screaming into the void, begging until desperation and regret turned into white hot anger, just to burn out and leave nothing but loss and sorrow in its wake-

He tried to shake the feeling and focus on the present while pulling himself up. But the water kept coming. The lower parts of the city had been long engulfed by the waves, and those that had survived had flocked to the hills. Trying to escape their fate and refusing to go out silently. Crawly only hoped that what was left of humanity would keep that fighting spirit alive.

He looked around and contemplated helping people onto their makeshift rafts as the waters reached his chest and his battered physical form began to lose the struggle against the waves, constantly finding himself underwater just to re-emerge, the rain making it hard to catch his breath. He didn’t notice Aziraphale appearing behind him until he felt a hand grab his arm, which prevented him from being swept off his feet once more. Crawly barely managed to make out the words ‘It’s time, we have to go now,’ despite the angel screaming them on top of his lungs.

Crawly gave him a long look, before tearing himself away from him and making his way towards one of the rafts. _‘Crawly!’_

The demon pulled himself on the raft, or at least tried to; he knew he would have lost his weakened corporation then and there if he hadn’t been pulled up by somebody he couldn’t even make out through the rain. Crawly caught his breath and looked around. There was only one more thing he could do.

Some people pointed and recoiled, overcome with terror, when Crawly spread his dark wings and illuminated himself as if on fire so to stand out against the rain, before snarling at the cowering humans. With a powerful flap of his wings, he took off among the screams.

All he could do was hope that his appearance had changed who they were cursing with their dying breath. He hoped he wouldn’t see any of them again. It was the least they deserved.

* * *

‘Crawly?’, Aziraphale asked quietly against the thunderous volume of the downpour outside. He crouched down next to the demon. That’s when he noticed it – Crawly was trembling, his face contorted in distress.

Aziraphale sighed. He hadn’t seen Crawley since they had made it to the boat, and when they did, Crawley had been angrier than he’d ever seen him. The angel had tried to assuage him, which was very difficult given his suspicion that the use of the words ‘ineffable’ or ‘plan’ would cause the demon to burst into literal flames. There was no point in trying to downplay what had happened.

‘I don’t like it any more than you do.’, Aziraphale had opted to say, finally.

And it was true. Crawly knew that it was true. And that’s when Crawly walked away, into the deeper parts of the ship. Aziraphale hadn’t followed.

And here they were, three days later.

Aziraphale sat down on the straw, miracled up a blanket and began draping it over the demon.

At first, he didn’t notice him stirring at the gentle touch. He would’ve expected that if Crawly did wake, he’d shoot up and lash out at the angel, still filled with anger over what his side had done. He also would’ve expected some defensiveness at the very idea of being woken from a nightmare. Some snark about how demons don’t have nightmares, that they ARE nightmares, something along those lines of thought.

Or maybe that had been wishful thinking on his part, because Crawly starting to shake uncontrollably, curling into himself and gasping for breath was much, much worse.

Instinctively, Aziraphale put down his candle holder and reached out to pull Crawly close. To his surprise, there was no resistance. He was alarmed at just how thin he felt in his arms.

They would never speak of this, he knew. Crawly would trust him to never speak of this.

The angel wanted to say something comforting along the lines of ‘They are in a better place now’, as if that made it okay. Or ‘It was only a dream.’ If only. Instead, he held his dear nemesis in silence as he allowed himself to mourn, safe in the twilight next to the unicorn, the smell of mildew and sea water emanating from the crack in the hull along with the occasional drizzle of rain whenever the direction of the wind changed.

They sat together for a long time. And although there was a long journey ahead, Aziraphale knew that one day, the storm would pass.

A new dawn would finally break, and he took comfort in knowing that they’d be there to witness it together.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to get better at writing, so I thought I'd try my hands at a ficlet for something I drew. Took me a long time to make an AO3 account, but I think I'm going to like it here. Still learning how to format, hope it's all legible.  
> You can also find me here:  
> Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/skelligiri  
> DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/skelligiri (my last 12 years of artwork are on there, although I haven't got many watchers who are into Good Omens by the looks of it?)  
> Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/skelligiri (only started posting there recently)


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